For When he Calls
by CodaEvermore
Summary: The last thing she would expect was a call from him. But although the intentions may be mixed, it reveals where her heart lies. Oneshot, now with a short epilogue.
1. Chapter 1

His name appears on her mobile screen.

She freezes, that legendary von Karma, and though it must only be a second it seems his face flashes on the screen for much longer. She, who is known so well to be the fear of every courtroom judge, witness and attorney in every courtroom she has become acquainted with, she does not make a move – for she cannot understand why his face should appear now, on this device which is in her possession. She cannot comprehend why the famous defence lawyer should call her now.

But do not rush. She moves with the very same purposefulness she did then when she knew no defeat; when such a happening did not even cross her mind. She moves to answer the call of the one who, she does not forget, taught her the meaning of that word.

She is young, still, and perhaps if you looked inside her head this second you would notice such a perceptible change, despite her outward façade – for this now mind is a young girl's mind, and although she is regarded as mature for her age, even frightening, there is something awakened in her in this last moment. It is this which causes her to walk with a more hurried step than usual towards her mobile; to hold it in her hand a moment, staring. She still cannot quite believe it.

She dare not imagine the reason why he should be calling her now, having not seen him for months, or having left on the best of terms. She dare not allow a rare smile to alight on her lips as she answers the device; holds it gently against her ear. She will listen to him first.

"Ah, hey."

His voice is familiar in her ear – although softer, not so much as she remembered it in that courtroom, as she regarded his every word with contempt and undisguised fury. And, for some strange reason, it makes her want to cry.

A silence links them. For once, she finds herself speechless – and although over such a phonecall it is impossible to use her characteristic whip, she is not entirely sure that, if he were here, she would care to use it. And then the words rise up inside of her –

"Maya? Are you there?"

- and fall.

She swallows, painfully, slowly; but she does not hang up on her rival. Instead she casts her mind back, to her, that other girl who stood beside him on those cases, for whom he would go to such extraordinary lengths. And what was it she called him? "Nick." It is difficult to capture the upbeat, joyful voice with which his companion speaks, but she allows herself to fall into her role – just for a moment, a moment more. "Hey, Nick."

"Maya? You okay?"

"Yes- yeah." She seats herself, gradually in a nearby chair. "Yeah, I am – I'm fine. I'm cool, Nick." How strange, to be speaking to him like this – behind not only the protection of the phone, but the mask of another. For the first time using his name, as she knows the other girl would. She does not understand what she is doing.

"You sure? You don't sound like yourself." The concern is clear in his voice, and she manages to keep the note of emotion out of her own as she continues to speak, mindless of what she is doing, for all she longs for in this moment is to hear him speak to her like this; without the fear which she is so accustomed to in others as they converse with her, eyes always mindful of the stringent weapon she keeps with her at all times.

"I'm fine. I'm fine, Nick, I'm fine." She can do nothing but repeat the word, over and over; although, though there is no reason why it should be so, she cannot help but feel that it is a lie. And she does not understand why. She swallows. "What's up?"

"Oh. Um, I got my paycheck. We can go and get burgers round the corner, if you'd like. That usual place."

She had never envied her before, that girl who so loyally stood by his side, the same age as herself and yet infinitely younger, so different. But she finds tears staining her face, now – the legendary von karma, she who became prosecutor at the age of thirteen – out of jealousy for this girl who is so unlike herself, for she knows that she cannot be her: she cannot have him speak to her like this, with such honest friendship, as he does to this girl who he believes he is speaking with now.

Silently she swallows, smiles a little. "I'd love to, Nick." For a moment she lets that name become her own, in her mouth. She allows herself to be this girl, because if it means that he will speak to her for a minute more, then it will be worth it.

"Seriously?" She nods, though he cannot see her. "Ah, cool. You be here soon, then?"

"Yeah." She shuts her eyelids, continues to nod. "Yeah, Nick. Yeah, I'll be there. I'll be there soon."

"Cool." In the background, a door opening. "I guess I'll see you, t-"

"Hey, Nick? You here?"

In a flash of reality, she awakens from her fantasy; presses the key that cuts off the phonecall, before he can reply; throws the phone away from her, as though it could sting as greatly as her own weapon. Her cheeks are still wet. She sits, unmoving, alone in this room of hers, before a sad, bittersweet laugh emits from her throat. And now she is von Karma once more, prosecutor extraordinaire; and yet she rests her elbows on her knees and her forehead on her palms, forgotten whip by her side, as she repeats the one word over and over again – "fool, fool, fool."


	2. Epilogue

He stares at the screen.

"Hey, Nick? What's up?" Out of the corner of his vision she appears, a vague purple blur, but he barely registers it. So overwhelmed is he with panic, then with confusion, that he cannot comprehend what it is she says now. His mind is focused on the name on his screen – her, name, the name of the legendary prosecutor – _oh, man…_

The two could not be more different.

But there is a thought, a concern, which rises up from beneath the ashes of this confusion. A single clear sentence.

_Why didn't she say?_

This isn't like _her_ – not like her at all. The real von Karma would have lashed out at him; he would have felt her whip marks across his ear, though she was goodness knows where. She would have called him a fool, at the least. Or a foolish fool. But this is so out of character – so unknown, so strange – that it appears to turn the entire universe upside down.

And suddenly he is not sure of himself.

"Nick? We going?"

He glances up – at his loyal companion, his one constant force in this strange turn of events; and he smiles, shakily. Everything is normal, after all.

He places the phone in his jacket pocket. Just in case.

"Yeah. We're going."


End file.
